Graduation
by annastern2009
Summary: There isn't much that Sam has in his life that is he is proud of. When the one thing that he does have get threatened, he gets pissed. As always, Dean is there to make him feel better.  Sam - 18, Dean - 22


The hotel door slammed behind Sam, rattling on it's hinges as it hit the door jam. The look on his face alone made the young female that was passing by with her dog give him a frightened look before she sped up, walking down the pathway quickly. He couldn't help it, and quite honestly, he didn't want to hold in how pissed off he was. He had every right to be, god damn it!

Today was supposed to be a day for celebrations. It wasn't every day that an eighteen year old graduated from high school, especially with having top grades, runner up for valdictorian. Him, Sam Winchester, despite being in possible twenty high schools all four years, he had been that close to giving the graduation speech.

Is that why he was pissed? Cause he wasn't the one to give the speech? Of course not, he wasn't petty.

But you would think Dean and his dad could at least understand what the fuck today meant to him. Instead, he had to miss his own ceremony because they would be packing up and leaving in an hour.

"FUCK!"

Sam hadn't even realize he had screamed, let alone moved to slam his hand down on the top of the Impala. He had been looking forward to day, and damn it, this had to go and happen. He fucking hated this life, the one that his dad had forced them in. He hated that neither of the people closed to him understood, that neither one was willing to push off the next hunt a single fucking day for him to get to experience this. His hand came down hard again on the top of the car, the sound a dull thunk, and it hurt his hand, but he didn't care. He didn't notice it.

"Would you watch it, dude? You're going to hurt the baby." Sam whirled around, his eyes settling on Dean and his cocky grin that always in place. He ground his teeth together, raising the hand from the top of the car to point at him.

"Don't. You don't get to fucking talk to me right now, let alone act like nothing is wrong. Leave me the fuck alone." Normally he wasn't the one to cuss. Hell, anytime Dean called him his oh-so-affection nickname, Bitch, he always replied with Jerk. There were better things he could say, but he just didn't. He tried to not cuss as much as possible. But this.. The cocky grin easily slid from his brother's face, his brow furrowing as he stared at Sam. He didn't care, Sam would have walked away right then to let the ass stay in his confused state, but he couldn't. Dean was already moving towards him, and pissed or not, he couldn't just walk away from his brother.

"What the hell has you so worked up?" Sam scoffed, clenching his jaw again, his lips pressing tight together. The look was one that Dean had deemed a long time ago as his "Bitch Face". If he seriously didn't know, fine. He wouldn't say it. He wouldn't say anything. He wasn't the small, scrawny little brother anymore. Hell, he still had a few years to grow, and he was already at eye-level with Dean, if not an inch taller. He couldn't just be stared down anymore. "Seriously, Sam, what the fuck? You storm out after Dad says we gotta pack, beat up the baby, and then you're going to give me the cold shoulder? No, fuck this. What. Is. It?"

Sam could see the wheels turning behind his brother's eyes, and coming up with nothing. That little fact made him pissier than before, and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning one hip against the edge of the car. "You have no idea. Can you not come up with a single thing? Why today may be special? Why the _hell_ I'd want to stick around just one more day?" He watched silently as Dean put his hands out to the side before letting them fall back down against his sides. He laughed out, low in his throat, his head tilting forward and his eyes on the ground.

"_What_, Sam? I swear, if you don't tell me, you're going to get hit." He stared at Dean for a moment, feeling what he wanted to say start to gurgle in his throat. Sam knew that once he started, he wouldn't stop. But he could tell Dean wasn't going to let it go, not with how he was standing in front of him. How he was blocking the path to the hotel room. Fine. If that's how he was going to be, fine.

"I am eighteen years old, Dean. Despite our shitty life, I have always, ALWAYS, stayed caught up with my school work. I've done what I'm told, but I make sure we're near a school so i can keep going. Tonight is my fucking graduation, Dean! I was supposed to walk in a few hours with my class. I was graduating with honors! And we have to leave TONIGHT? It can't wait one fucking night, because Dad -" He knew it would happen, as soon as he started venting. His hands were flying around, gesturing wildly as he said each thing. He didn't notice, though, as he got closer slowly to Dean, until his brother raised both of his eyebrows, giving him a glance before he took a step back. "- has a sick obsession and even if I did tell him what tonight meant, he wouldn't stay for me to get to walk!"

He took a deep breath, the first since he had basically started his little tirade, his hands pushing through his slightly spikey hair. His dad always made them get haircuts, he wouldn't let either of his boys grow his hair out. Sam didn't like it though, he hated the short hair, because to him, it just made him closer to a cloan of his brother and father. "I worked my ass off for this, Dean. I worked hard, and for nothing. I get a fucking piece of paper in the mail - if they can ever find me to deliver it." His words this time were softer, his eyes on the side of the Impala. He was tempted to kick it, but with Dean out here? He wouldn't walk away, he'd having to be carried in a body bag.

"You're.. this upset about missing graduation? God, you're such a nerd." Sam shot his brother a glare at the words, at the chuckle that was after the declaration. He took in a deep breath, just about to turn and walk away. He'd end up hitting Dean at this point, even though he would just feel like an ass the next few weeks. "Woah, wait, Sam. I seriously don't get your issue with this, I mean, it's just a freak parade anyway. But if it means that much to you.."

He slowly raised his eyes to his brother, narrowing his eyes just slightly. He could tell what was up with that tone.

"Look, just.. go get your freak parade on, okay? I'll distract Dad and keep him busy tonight so he doesn't notice, and we'll just take off in the morning. But I swear, you owe me for this, Sam. You owe me _big_ time."

Sam couldn't help it. He knew how his brother was about anything physical, about anything that could cross over into a 'chick flick' moment, but this? This was the best thing that had happened to him in a while. All that anger quickly left. It seemed only Dean could do that. Know how to help it, and not just yell at him and tell him to get over it. He moved forward, easily wrapping his arms around his brother, giving him a bonecrushing hug. "Woah, I didn't sign up for this. Let me the hell go, or I refuse to even talk to dad tonight!"

The soft laugh that left Sam's lips was easy as he pulled back, a soft, shy grin on his lips. "Sorry. Thanks, Dean."

The look Dean gave him.. it was something between wondering if he really was a freak, or just his normal little nerdy brother was a comfort. "Leave before I change my mind. Bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes at the stupid nickname that had somehow stuck between them, taking a step back. He had already turned, getting ready to jog to the highschool, before he called over his shoulder.

"Jerk."


End file.
